“Strengthened me, I hope, dearest,” answered Miss Rosenthal, as she arose from the table.
Bob was despatched to the livery stable where Erminie kept her little carriage and horse, And Catherine was sent up into the attic to the linen room to fetch down the hampers of lint.
And so, when Erminie and Elfie came down ready dressed to go out, they found the carriage at the door and the hampers stowed within it, and old Bob on the coachman’s box.
“Drive to the hospital, Robert,” said Miss Rosenthal. And the horse started.
A drive of some twenty minutes brought them to the front of the extensive buildings.
“I declare, it looks like a funeral here,” said Elfie, noticing the crowd of ambulances that were drawn up before the hospital.
But when the two girls alighted and Elfie had a nearer view and saw wounded men piled like slaughtered cattle in those ambulances, and bleeding men carried up the steps of the hospital; and when they entered the building and she found the atmosphere pervaded with the scent of fresh blood, and the staircase slippery with gore, she could restrain herself no longer, but screamed and hid her face against Erminie’s black robe.
“Elfie! Elfie! if you cannot command your feelings, my dear, you must return to the carriage. You can do no good here unless you are calm and strong,” whispered Erminie.
“Oh, but I never saw anything so horrible! It is like human shambles, and it turns me sick. I have been here many, many times, but never saw anything like this!” shuddered Elfie.
“Because you have never before happened to be here when they were bringing in the recently wounded. You had better go back to the carriage, Elfie.”